Just One More Kiss by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
Just One More Kiss
One
More kiss –
Maybe more –
Before I go;
I need one last kiss to savor later.
I hate leaving, but if I must, give me
The loving warmth
Of your lips
To soothe
Me.
Give
The soft,
Unspoken
Declaration
Of your unyielding love and I’ll give mine.
Our impassioned embrace thrills my young heart;
I can hear it –
Can you, too? –
Listen,
Thump.
You
Are loved,
You are all
I ever need
To leave Earth in a flight of happiness!
Just one more – or two – or three – more kisses
To get me home,
As I walk
Away,
Whole.
Soprano and bass crescendo – voices worshipping through song,
Angels descending upon Earth, inviting the world to sing along –
Calling everyone big and small – to share their love so deep and strong.
As angels sing throughout the night, praise fills every willing ear.
The final rays of sunlight fade – piercing the stained glass window –
As darkness settles in the pews, hundreds of candles begin to glow;
As gentle flames dance and burn, white candle wax begins to flow.
The candles light the path; angels follow the lights all the way here.
Tall tower of green,
Brightest I have seen –
Lights strung like stars in the sky,
Sparkle against pines –
As your gold star shines,
You dazzle the passing eye.
Happy Autumn Days by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
Happy Autumn Days
On the porch, the swing is swinging. And the woman, she is sewing.
Through the trees, the red-leafed maples, the wind is, is softly blowing.
A brown dog – the happiest dog – runs, chasing; a boy is throwing –
The woman; now she is grinning – for her son, love overflowing!
Candles flicker, shadows dance on the wall.
The water cool on her skin, bubbles soft –
On her lips, a faint trace of alcohol,
She holds the glass of sweet rosé aloft.
Sighing contently, she lets her head loll.
The air carries scent and song as it wafts –
A duet of piano and cello –
Sliding into the tub, she is mellow.
The Boy with Gray Eyes by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
The Boy with Gray Eyes
The boy with mischievous gray eyes
Chuckles as he plans a surprise:
Cold hands tickle the side
Of his prospective bride –
She can’t stop laughing, though she tries
Painting the Sky by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
Painting the Sky
Tender hands cover a sleepy yawn,
Roused from dreams by the rosy dawn –
The sky blushing as the rising sun
Kisses his crescent companion.
Feathered flocks surf the cobalt sky,
Dodging waves of clouds as they fly –
With the gleaming sun on their backs,
They sing in whistles and high clacks.
Rolling like heavy ink blots,
The dark clouds cry, distraught;
Rain showers the land, at last unbound
Like miniscule drums bouncing around.
Light streaks through the hazy web,
The sky pale and sad as clouds ebb –
Life stirs as the sun resumes its post,
And birds return to their gracious host.
As evening falls, mauve fades to indigo;
T
Soulless, frigid within
A temperamental body,
You are snow in summer,
Sparkling against a black void,
Melting
Melting
Like shadows at dawn,
We brigade over your ice
And you crumble to pieces,
Collapsing onto bruised knees,
Bleeding
Bleeding
Launched into a black void,
Our lungs explode like missiles
With the harmony of joyful agony
As your broken voices scream and beg,
Crying
Crying
But no one ever listens to you
Because we are the soulless snow
And you are all the entombed flowers,
Dying
Dying
Blue Moon,
Long awaited,
How we dream to see you
And bathe in rays of days faded -
But we must wait for you to greet our eyes
Because, for our dreams to come true,
We watch as one moon dies
So you may rise,
Blue Moon
So we wait as days fade into twilight,
Hoping the moon we call fated
Brings light to this drear night
In an elated
Blue Moon
Glow.
Oh,
Blue Moon,
Though belated,
You nestle in the sky.
Our curiosities sated,
All of creation raises its arms high.
Blue Moon,
We see you rise
As the last sunray dies,
And our dreams finally come true -
Your splendid face meets our unworthy eyes.
With spirits no longer faded,
We rise to welcome you,
The world freezes in the arms of Time,
As if holding its breath, waiting for something –
Anything – to happen before the morning bells chime,
But there is nothing except a distant cricket-song and my own breathing
I gaze into the sky, sprinkled with stars like fragmented glass,
Stretching into a world undisturbed by mankind;
And as my toes curl into damp grass,
I contemplate the angelic world overhead, undefined.
A star is born every time we dream –
The sky never holds the same constellations twice
For we evolve, causing the night to gleam
With wonders and hopes of paradise
Forlorn Paradise by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
Forlorn Paradise
Your skin is soft as a rose petal,
But no one will ever know
‘Cause you always run from happiness
To avoid any sorrow –
Yes, to avoid any sorrow,
You remain prepared to sacrifice
Any chance of happiness at all
And live in your forlorn paradise.
I Count the Stars With You by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
I Count the Stars With You
I Count the Stars With You –
Name constellations, too
Let’s make a little wager:
Who makes the best depiction?
Look, I found Ursa Major –
(Too quick for my conviction.)
Your finger traces Gemini
Just as mine points to brave Leo –
You grin up at the speckled sky,
Becoming my Galileo.
A paintbrush cannot capture this night
Of ancient mythos, honored fiction.
I shall keep Draco and Hydra’s light
Within my memory’s collection.
I squeeze Orion between my fingers
As you tenderly cusp Lynx and Virgo;
And still, your gorgeous smile lingers,
My dearest muse, my lovely Clio!
Wager this depiction of Ursa
Torn, darkly patterned wings flutter to death.
Is bright sunlight too harsh for you?
Scarred moths splayed out on scorching pavement,
Leading from the sky you frequently flew
To lead me further down into shadow,
Envying those yellow butterflies roaming the blue –
While we are vulnerably plastered to land,
They live their dreams – and ours, too.
When Sugar Melts by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
When Sugar Melts
We inhale infatuation and exhale euphoria,
Living for a moment of perfect passion
With a plethora a feverish motion
That always seems to deflate at sunrise.
Yet for our recklessly beautiful adventure,
We continue seeking the ideal location
To conceive sin and avoid investigation,
Which forever looms overhead at sunrise.
Covered in blood, a rose stem is my pen
As I write a love encrypted invitation
To our routine twisted, starlit celebration
That always seems to deflate at sunrise.
We speak low but cling to every word
Uttered throughout the rushed action –
For you and I live in fear of any interruption
Catching us at the guilty glo
A Thousand Years by Indigo-Moon-Shadow, literature
Literature
A Thousand Years
If I had a thousand years to express my love,
I would run out of time before the halfway point –
Daisies sprout across my garden walls of
Billowing crape myrtles grown to anoint
Visiting silver-winged delicate butterflies
With golden nectar as they pierce clear skies;
You turn raindrops into spectacular lights,
You are the sunrise that ends darkest nights
That once haunted me with a wolfish wraith,
Marching and slithering around inside my head,
Never bothering to hide under my bed –
Until you came and returned to me my faith;
Thus I need more than a thousand years for you
To understand how you have made me live anew
DFC 2018: 10. Fireflies by kiwi-damnation, literature
Literature
DFC 2018: 10. Fireflies
The fireflies arrive at dusk,
Their membraned wings, and tiny husks
They dance about the blood-stained sky
And capture daydreams as they fly
They gather in the moonlight’s musk
And hum as if they mean to busk,
Their joyful movements do deny
That love or hope could ever die
As fireflies arrive at dusk
A symphony of twilight plucks
At heartstrings hardened into tusk
Small glowing bodies wave goodbye
And claim the pain that drenched their eyes,
Revealing light beneath the brusque
The fireflies arrived at dusk
I lay down, and fall fast asleep. While at rest, I begin dreaming.
As I dream, new worlds come alive, marvelous, lovely, and teeming
with wondrous, stunning creations. Some scare me, and leave me screaming.
Even still, I adore my dreams, and often, I wake up beaming.
DFC 2018: 2. Sometimes This Is How It Dies by kiwi-damnation, literature
Literature
DFC 2018: 2. Sometimes This Is How It Dies
Sometimes this is how it dies
Not with a bang or a surprise
But with one staring into eyes
For solace from the tearful cries
Yet there are bonds and there are ties
That transcend pain and soft goodbyes
This is unlike all last goodbyes
Where one feels slowly as it dies
The severing of the cords and ties
A slow progression, not surprise
And wistful days collect in cries
That gather in one’s bloodshot eyes
Not even with the keenest eyes
Can one placate these soft goodbyes
For though the love remains, the cries
Know now is when the life plan dies
And even though it did surprise
We must unmake these heartfelt ties
One can’t regret t
I get a wiggle in my nose and a twitch in my toes,
and everything between begins to shake.
I cross my eyes, my arms, and two fingers.
Then I bob my head, first left and then right.
Next I spin in a circle until I stop to skip,
but my little dance makes flittering fairies fly.
Yes, the flittering fairies flap about and fly,
but if I try to join I get stuck on twitchy toes.
So I’ll flap my arms as I begin to hop and skip.
Now it doesn’t matter how I dance or shake.
Every step I take and move I make is right.
So I’ll stick out my tongue and stand on my fingers.
The fairies can be seen when I stand on my fingers
I can watch th
Most of my non-literature deviations are several years old, so I've officially become a literature hobbyist. Although I hope it won't be a hobby forever.
Favourite Visual Artist
Vincent van Gogh
Favourite TV Shows
Doctor Who, Penny Dreadful, Psycho-Pass
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Hawthorne Heights, Pierce the Veil, Bring Me the Horizon
Favourite Books
Harry Potter, The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Night Circus, Bloodthirsty